Fagin: The Dangerous Type
by Charlene Bates
Summary: FaginXNancy. A story about the feisty and romantic side of Fagin. Based on the Fagin in the musical Oliver! and the Nancy out of the book Oliver Twist by Charles Dickens. Dedicated to all my readers!
1. You are the Girl

Chapter 1: You are the Girl 

Fagin sighed as he sat down at the kitchen table. The boys were in bed, the dishes were done, and he was finally able to do whatever he wanted. He stretched, yawned, and looked about the room. What would he do? _I could read,_ he thought. _No, I can do that any time…_ Fagin fidgeted in his chair. After a few moments, he stood up and walked over to the fireplace. Grabbing the fire poker, he prodded the wood and stirred the flames. Placing the fire poker back in its proper place, he stepped back and smiled at the fire. _Now what?_ he thought. Shaking his head, he picked up a candle and walked over to the stairs that led to the top floor's bedrooms. He made his way up them slowly, trying not to make a sound. A floorboard creaked and he automatically brought a finger up to his lips in a signal of "quiet." After a moment, he continued his journey until he reached the landing. He tiptoed over to the door and placed his ear against its wooden surface. He listened intently for any sounds. Hearing nothing, he smiled satisfactorily and nodded before making his way back down the stairs. Once he reached the bottom, he looked around the room, smiled, and bounced back and forth on the balls of his feet. After a moment, he let the smile fall into a look of intent thought. He walked over to a small bookshelf and picked a dusty book off of it. Walking over to the kitchen table, he sat down, placed the candle onto the table's surface, and opened the book. He began to read a paragraph discussing a particularly bloody murder, when there was a knock at the door.

"Thank goodness!" he said aloud. Quickly placing the book back on the bookshelf, he grabbed his candle and made for the door. Walking quickly down the passageway, he reached the door in a matter of seconds. "Who is it?" he asked softly yet loud enough so that the caller outside could hear.

"It's Nancy," came Nancy's voice through the door.

Fagin opened the door, smiling widely.

"You look in good spirits," she commented.

"Ah, well, my dear… why shouldn't I be?" Fagin guided Nancy up the stairs. "The boys are in bed after a productive day of work and the house chores are complete… it's a fine life."

"Indeed it does seem so," Nancy commented somewhat solemnly.

"Something troubling you, Nance my dear? Have a seat and I'll get you a drink." Fagin pulled out a chair at the kitchen table for her to sit on.

"Well, it's just that Bill's gone on another one of his excursions." She sighed heavily and shifted in her chair.

"Well, my dear, that means plunder… profits… money…" Fagin smiled greedily as he handed her a glass of gin.

"There are other things in life than money, Fagin." Nancy commented.

"Well, yes, my dear. There are, aren't there?" Fagin shook his head thoughtfully. "Well, either way, money is one of the things that makes life worth living."

"You and Bill! All about business and money! Don't you two understand that there are sometimes more important things? What about people?"

"What about them, my dear?"

"Well, they have hearts… hearts enabling them to care… to love…" her voice trailed off slowly.

"Ah, my dear, to be sure! But why are your thoughts so bent on such things?"

"Well, I was sitting alone in the living room – after Bill left – and I began to realize how lonely it really is…"

"Certainly, my dear, but you have Bill quite often," Fagin pointed out not so much to lift the girl's spirit's as to get her to talk.

"Oh, Bill?! Really, Fagin! I think you would have noticed by now that all I am to him is a housemaid! Someone to do his laundry and cook his food!"

"My dear, you _must_ be much more than that," Fagin soothed, letting his hand rest on her shoulder.

"Oh, no I'm not! The last time he gave me some honest attention was… well… I don't remember!" she finished triumphantly as she proved her point.

"Nance, my dear," Fagin began as he poured some more gin into her cup, "Perhaps you are rethinking Bill… decided that he is no longer… satisfactory…" he grinned moving his chair purposefully closer to hers. "There are other people that could… satisfy your desires…"

"Oh, Fagin!" she laughed. "If I didn't know better, I'd say… Oh!" she burst into uncontrollable laughter.

Fagin stared blankly at her, wondering how such a simple suggestion could put her into better spirits so easily. Taking advantage of her distracted state, he poured more gin into her cup.

After finishing her laughing fit, she picked up the cup and took a good-sized sip.

"Well, my dear, conversation is fine and dandy, but how about some… fun?" Fagin rubbed his hands together excitedly as he rose from his chair.

"Fun? All right. What have you got in mind?" she asked curiously.

Fagin put on a thoughtful look. After a moment, he pointed towards the sky in triumph and walked over to her. Removing his hat with his left hand and extending his right hand towards her, he made his intentions clear. "Would you care to dance, my dear?"

"There's no music," Nancy pointed out, smiling with amusement all the while.

"Ah, yes, well…" He thought for a moment. "Ah! No problem, Nancy my dear! We shall have music!" he smiled victoriously.

"All right then!" She placed her hand in his.

After placing his hat back on his head, he pulled her out into a section of the room that was devoid of furniture. Fagin put one hand on her waist and took one of her hands in the other. A small laugh escaped Nancy's lips as he began to hum an exotic sounding tune. They danced about the room twirling and laughing. Slowly Fagin wrapped his arm farther and farther around her waist, decreasing the space between them. With a flourish, Fagin let go of her waist and twirled her in a circle in front of him. Dramatically pulling her against him as the tune he was humming became more intense.

"Where did you learn this?" Nancy breathed lightly against his cheek, clinging onto him, as the dance became more complicated.

Fagin paused in his tune. "Oh, I don't know… it was a number of years ago…" he paused in his talk to hum and then continued, "I really don't remember!"

Nancy laughed and was suddenly brought into a dip by Fagin. She held tightly around Fagin's neck, staring up at him, nearly bursting with laughter. He stared into her eyes, his facial expression cool, as he brought his lips close to hers. Momentarily paralyzed, Nancy stared up at him with wonder. Just as his lips were about to touch hers, he brought her back out of the dip and twirled her before pulling her to him again. They made their way about the room again, Fagin still humming and Nancy alternately giggling and staring in awe at him.

Fagin did a sudden turn, taking Nancy with him, and ending it with a showy gesture. He again dropped her into a dip, this one deeper than before. Humming softly, he leaned in towards her, bringing his lips close to hers again. Once his lips were almost touching hers, he stopped the humming and pressed his mouth to hers. As Nancy clung onto him, they sunk deeper into the kiss. After a moment, they broke apart and he brought her back to a standing position. Hardly pausing, he wrapped his arms tightly around her and placed another long, deep kiss on her lips. Fagin stroked her hair with one of his hands and let the other move slowly down her back. Suddenly Nancy pulled away, staring wildly at Fagin, her chest heaving from the exertion. He moved towards her staring intently into her eyes. When their faces were about six inches apart, Fagin took Nancy's chin in his right hand and, tilting his head to the left, placed his lips over hers again. She yielded to him, then pulled away violently. Fagin stared at her for a moment and then spoke softly. "My dearest Nancy, what is the matter?"

Her mouth moved soundlessly for a moment and then she found her voice, "I… I-I need to be going!" She turned, her skirt whirling about her and made quickly for the door.

Fagin followed her, covering the space between them rapidly. He grabbed her arm, stopping her as she reached for the doorknob.

"Nancy, my dear," he breathed, "there's no need for you to go rushing out of here like this… what are you afraid of?"

She stared passionately back at him, her mouth unmoved. Fagin, seizing his chance, held tightly onto her upper arms and kissed her again. She melted into it, but suddenly pulled back, wrenching herself out of his grip. Pulling the door open, she ran down the stairs, Fagin following her. Once she reached the bottom of the stairs, she paused, holding onto the doorknob in thought.

"Nance," Fagin said slowly, edging his way between her and the door, "answer my question; what are you afraid of?"

She stared at him, her lips shut tightly. Finally, she spoke. "I am afraid that I don't love Bill! I'm afraid that… that… I love _you_!" Deftly Nancy pushed Fagin out of the way. She turned and pulled the doorknob ferociously and ran off into the dark, starry night.

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Fagin stared helplessly at Nancy's frantically retreating figure. He knew that if he attempted to go after her it would only make things worse. Sighing, the old Jew closed the door and made his way back to the kitchen. He picked up the cup that held the remains of Nancy's gin and tipped the contents into his mouth. He swallowed and then poured more gin into the cup. Fagin sat down in one of the chairs and sighed. He was back alone again with nothing in particular to do. He glanced at the modest-sized bookshelf and at the one dusty book that rested on it. He shook his head and stared down at the gin in his cup. After draining the contents, he got up, taking the candle with him. He decided that the best thing to do would be to go to bed and forget about the whole evening. Well, maybe not forget it; just put it out of his mind for the night. No, he would dwell on it - all possible thought would be bent on it.

Fagin entered his bedroom. Slowly he undressed and put on a long flannel nightshirt. His mouth gaped wide open as he loosed a yawn. He approached the nightstand where he had placed the candle and blew out the small light source. Then, after pulling back the covers of the bed, he lowered himself onto the bed. His head hit the pillow lightly and he closed his eyes, smiling contentedly.

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Nancy glanced back every few steps to make sure that she wasn't being followed. Once she was halfway between her home and Fagin's, she slowed down and then stopped. Gasping for air, she leaned against the grimy wall of a fine china shop. Her heart was pounding; not so much from her sudden sprint, but from the intense emotions that were battling inside her. She loved Bill… _when I first met him!_ Fagin is just a business associate, a friend… _nonetheless he's a person and a man at that!_ Nancy was just an innocent girl, well, woman… _and a right lonely one at that!_

"Shut up!" she mumbled irritably to herself. She whacked herself in the head to further impress the command upon herself. How had ten minutes with Fagin caused her to question so many things? _Because you think that Fagin is right. Others COULD satisfy your desires…_ She sighed heavily.

"No!" she told herself firmly. _Satisfy my desires… ha!_ she thought. A burst of laughter exited her as the words reverberated in her head. She could feel the mirthful tears collecting in her eyes, ready to flow down her cheeks. She wiped at her watery eyes as the laughing fit began to calm down. After a moment, she was brought down to a smile of amusement.

_See!_ she thought. _You're right. Bill is the one you love. Fagin is crazy._

Another snort of laugher escaped her and she winded her way none too gracefully down the street. She tripped on some object that was lying on the ground and, not managing to catch her balance, fell onto the ground in a heap of giggles.

_Calm down! _she scolded herself. _Someone will see you and think that you're drunk!_

She placed her hands and feet against the ground to steady herself. Slowly she straightened up, first raising her bottom, then her upper body. She laughed then hiccuped. Nancy was reminded of the gin that Fagin had poured her. _So I am drunk,_ she thought. _Just a little._

Walking on with new determination, Nancy focused on the task before her. She could see her apartment in the distance. Picking up her pace, she covered the distance quickly and reached the door. She stood in front of it for a minute in confusion; something wasn't right. _Key!_ she thought suddenly. She glanced around herself desperately. A thought dawned on her. _I left my handbag that had the key in it at Fagin's!_ She groaned with annoyance and despair, leaning against the door. She knew she had only a few options. (1) She could go back to Fagin's and get it from him, (2) she could wait hours out in the cold for Bill to show up, or (3) she could attempt to break into her own apartment. Discounting the first one immediately as awkward and unpleasant, she considered the second one. _It's too cold!_ She then considered the third one. _It's worth a shot!_ Reaching up, she extracted a hairpin from her hair. She stuck the hairpin into the lock and turned it. After pulling it out, she attempted to turn the knob, but the door was still locked. She glared at it, then put the hairpin back in, wiggled it, turned it, and wiggled it again. She rattled the doorknob angrily before giving up.

_I'm not waiting who-knows-how-long for Bill to show up!_ she thought, hugging herself tightly as the cold air bit at her skin. Her mind strayed to her first option – going back to Fagin's. The memory of their dance ran through her head and she found that the night air was suddenly much too hot. In her mind's eye, she could see Fagin getting closer and closer… his lips touched hers… his arms wrapped around her… she was in ecstasy…

Nancy snapped out of her thoughts as her hot skin touched the cold ground. Her eyes had closed, she had slid down to the ground, and she was now lying against the icy surface of the doorstep. She stood up, wiped at her now soggy dress with her hands, and shook her head vigorously, trying to rid herself of the thoughts and images that had taken control over her.

To business! she ordered herself. I'll just go to Fagin's, act like nothing unusual happened, and get my handbag!

Nancy searched the ground with her eyes, bent over, and picked up the hairpin that had slipped from her fingers in her moment of distraction. After pinning her hair back in place, she made her way back towards Fagin's.

**R-E-V-I-E-W!!!!**


	2. Touch and Go

_Nancy searched the ground with her eyes, bent over, and picked up the hairpin that had slipped from her fingers in her moment of distraction. After pinning her hair back in place, she made her way back towards Fagin's._

Chapter 2: Touch and Go

As Fagin lay in bed, he mentally went over all the to-dos of tomorrow, preparing himself for all the tasks that came with a new day. Once he had completed this, his mind came back to the present before returning to thoughts of the past. All the events of that evening played through his head. They started at the beginning (when Nancy had arrived), jumped to the end (when she had left in a hurry), returned to the middle (their dance), and back to the start again. He could hear Nancy's soft knock at the door like it was happening all over again. He heard her voice calling his name and more, louder knocking. Wait! She hadn't called his name before! And the knocking hadn't gone on that long either! Fagin opened his eyes and stared around the dark room. His eyes widened as he heard the knocking and the yelling continue. Standing up, he felt around for matches and heard the object of his search hit the floor. Getting down on his knees, he felt around for the matches. After a moment, he located them, lit one, and brought it to the wick of the candle. Running over to a small armoire, he reached in and pulled out his great coat. After pulling it on hurriedly over his nightshirt, he grabbed the candle and headed downstairs. The knocking had ceased. He opened the door hurriedly and saw Nancy's back facing him. She turned around, hugging herself tightly, attempting to keep off the cold.

"It's about time!" she hissed through clenched, slightly chattering teeth.

"Terribly sorry, Nance my dear!" he said, attempting to wipe the surprised look of his face. He put his arm lightly around her back and guided her through the door.

Nancy felt hot and dizzy at Fagin's touch. Once inside, she reluctantly moved out of arm's reach and walked ahead of Fagin and up the stairs, feeling her way as she went. Fagin followed her automatically.

Once they reached the top, Fagin hesitated. He didn't want to ask why she had returned, fearing that he would be disappointed by her reply.

"Gin, my dear?" he finally asked, gesturing to the cup that was still on the table.

"No," Nancy responded looking somewhat disdainfully towards the cup. "I came to get my handbag – it had my house key in it. When I got home, I couldn't get in."

All of Fagin's wildest hopes and dreams came to a crashing halt. She had come back for her handbag – that was all. He tried to hide his disappointment and redirected his energy on locating Nancy's belongings.

Nancy and Fagin moved through the apartment, both trying very hard to avoid looking in the same area. Nancy glanced around the table at which she had sat with Fagin, previously that evening. Getting on her hands and knees, she crawled around it and under it. Not finding what she was looking for, she stood up, glanced around hopelessly, and spoke to the room at large.

"I don't see it _anywhere_, Fagin!"

The old Jew appeared from behind a cabinet. He walked over to her.

"Is there anywhere else you might have left it, my dear?" Fagin was looking at her intently and Nancy tried to return the attention as she normally would have.

"No, well…" Her thoughts drifted foggily over her journey from Fagin's to her apartment. She had been a bit hysterical when she left. Maybe she had dropped it on the ground…

Fagin could see Nancy's mind working. He took the chance to take inventory of all of Nancy's "finer points" with his eyes.

"I may have dropped it on the ground somewhere outside!" Nancy declared. Fagin jumped slightly as the subject of his observations returned her attention to him. He glanced around, slightly bewildered, and then responded.

"Ah, yes, my dear! That's probably it!" he glanced at her.

Nancy stared back at him, surprised by his seemingly scatter-brained manner.

"I best go look for it then," she said slowly, mentally trying to retrace her steps.

Fagin, taking this as a request for help, spoke. "I'll go with you, Nancy my dear!"

"That's really not necessary!" Nancy protested.

"It could take you all night to find it… you might as well have my help."

Nancy nodded and they made their way outside. Nancy slowly retraced her steps, Fagin either next to her or at her heels. Nancy quickly began to shiver in the cold night air. Fagin, noting this, offered her his greatcoat. She declined the offer and shivered a while longer. Fagin, taking advantage of their close proximity, wrapped his arm around her. Nancy felt his warm arm rest against her back and his hand lightly gripping her arm. Her heartbeat quickened and her body temperature increased. Her mind wandered and, as Fagin stopped suddenly, she tripped over her own feet, clinging onto Fagin to keep from landing on the cold, wet ground. Fagin gripped her arms tightly, laughing slightly, and pulled her back up onto her feet. Nancy stuttered a couple syllables of a word before going completely silent. Fagin was still gripping her arms; she was no more than an inch away from him. Breathing seemed difficult; Nancy felt like someone was sitting on top of her chest. She opened her mouth slightly and inhaled slowly.

Fagin could not resist the opportunity. He placed his lips over hers and held tightly onto her, determined not to let her escape. Surprisingly, she didn't fight; instead, she returned the attention avidly, all thoughts of the key forgotten.

Rain suddenly began to fall from the cloudy night sky, soaking Fagin and Nancy. Fagin held tighter to Nancy, fearing that she would pull away. Nancy didn't retreat, but the emotional war was raging inside her.

'What about Bill?' _Fagin's better… he pays attention to me!_

'Fagin is only interested in your body-'… _At least he's interested in SOMETHING I've got!_

'You've devoted yourself to Bill for years-'… _And almost every one of those years I'd like to take back right now and spend them with Fagin!_

'But Bill-' _Shut up and let me enjoy this!_

The debate inside her head stopped and she felt Fagin's lips pull away from hers.

_NO! _a voice inside her screamed.

Nancy stared at him, her eyes wide. Fagin's lips parted as he began to say something, but he was interrupted by the sound of three loud gunshots about a mile and a half away followed by the echoes of numerous yells.

Fagin, gripping Nancy's arms, pulled her into a dark alleyway. The old Jew stared out at the small area of the avenue that was exposed by the street-lamp. Nancy clung tightly to one of Fagin's arms, leaning against him for support. He could feel her chest rising and falling and her heart pounding against his arm. He chanced a small glance at her and then peered around the high brick wall of the building on their right.

Two figures walked leisurely toward the street-lamp. Both appeared to be men, one tall and the other short. The short one let out a coarse laugh that was quickly quieted by a whack from the other. The tall man whispered something to the short man and they both laughed. For a moment, the streetlight displayed some of their features. Fagin let out a small gasp, quickly covering his mouth and shrinking further into the alleyway.

"What?!" Nancy hissed in his ear.

The old Jew shook his head furiously, indicating that he refused to answer her question at the present time, and chanced another peek at the men. Nancy shook her head in aggravation and walked further into the darkness of the alley. The men had paused and were now squatted around something on the ground. Fagin strained to see the object, but the two men were casting large shadows over it, blocking it from view. The two men exchanged some whispered conversation, stood up, and continued on in their seemingly aimless voyage.

Fagin and Nancy remained in the alleyway until the two men could no longer be seen or heard. Fagin exited the alley and walked to where the men had been looking at the object. Seeing nothing, he crouched down and attempted to get a closer look at the ground. There was an area where the rainwater wasn't so thickly covering the ground, but it was quickly disappearing in the downpour. Fagin stood up, his eyes still focused on the spot. He bumped lightly into Nancy, who had come up behind him. He let out a small cry of surprise and, after several assurances from Nancy that it was indeed just she, regained his composure. Nancy leaned against Fagin, wrapping her arms around him as she did so. Fagin stood still and did not return the attention. Nancy stared up at him, exasperatedly.

"Well?" she finally said, her annoyance evident.

"Well, what, my dear?" Fagin asked, not really listening to what he was saying.

"Well… what's got you so distracted?!" She let go of him as she spoke, giving him up as a lost cause.

"Those men… that was Bill and Flash Toby Crackit if I'm not mistaken!"

Nancy, who had ignored the two men, figuring that they were just ordinary gentlemen, stared back at Fagin in surprise. Then realization dawned on her.

"I have to get back home before Bill gets there!" Fear was evident in her voice. She stared around wildly. "But I still haven't found my handbag, much less my house-key!" She paced in a small circle, hugging herself tightly.

Fagin reached out a hand, grabbed her arm, and attempted to stop her in her frenzied wanderings. At his touch Nancy froze and seemed to come undone like a tightly wound string. She stood there for a moment and then leaned against Fagin, desperate for comfort.

"Now, now, Nancy, my dear," he hugged her gently to him and stroked her hair. "I'll get you back in time. They'll probably stop for a drink at the bar anyway! I-"

"Or they're headed on their way to Bill's and mine, figuring that I'll be there to provide them with their ale!" she spoke mournfully into Fagin's coat.

Fagin licked his lips nervously, trying to come up with a plan. Abruptly, he pulled her from him, wrapped his arm around her shoulder, and guided her in the direction that they had previously come from.

"Where are we going?!" Nancy moaned.

"Home, my dear. _My_ home."

Nancy listened to the sureness in his voice. Figuring that this was probably her last night to live because Bill would, or course, kill her, she decided that spending it with Fagin at 'his place' was the best thing. She allowed him to lead her all the way back to his apartment. Once they arrived, Fagin unlocked the door and entered, closely followed by Nancy. After locking the door, he grabbed her hand and led her up the stairs and over to the kitchen table. Nancy stood still, waiting for Fagin to do whatever it was that he was going to do with her. Fagin paced around her a couple times, deep in thought. He nodded to himself slowly and then walked over to the cupboard. After pulling out the infamous bottle of gin, he walked over to her. Opening the bottle, he sloshed some onto his hand and rubbed it on Nancy's neck. Nancy smiled slightly and gave Fagin a small wink. Fagin glanced at her somewhat quizzically and proceeded to rub the gin in a few more areas before placing the bottle on the table. He walked behind her and undid the top button of her dress, causing Nancy to shudder with excitement. He then faced Nancy and slid part of the neckline of her dress slightly off her shoulder. He took a step back and looked at her. After a moment, he nodded and walked past her nonchalantly. He quickly walked back over to her and, after grabbing the bottle of gin off the table, applied a little bit more of the liquid to her skin. He stepped back and smiled at what he saw causing Nancy to blush. He walked behind her and stroked Nancy's hair thoughtfully. He then removed one of the pins unceremoniously and allowed the hair that had previously been pinned in place to fall. Fagin moved to where he faced Nancy again. Her heart was beating fast and she was now perspiring. Fagin, noting these things, shook his head and chose to ignore it. Finally, he spoke.

"Nancy, my dear, why don't you lie down on the couch." He pointed at an old, worn sofa that was against the far wall.

Nancy's heart rate increased as she walked over to it. She laid across it in her most alluring pose and gave Fagin a flirtatious smile.

Fagin's brow furrowed as he looked at her. He shook his head and then spoke.

"Try to look more intoxicated, my dear."

Nancy's face fell and, trying to put her hurt pride aside, rearranged herself into a lazy, slightly drunk-looking position.

"That's better…" Fagin said slowly. He walked closer and looked at her for a moment. "Nancy, my dear," Fagin began again; Nancy sighed as he proceeded to instruct her in the 'right' position, "I think that you should not be facing up for fear that you might give way to a smile and-"

"What?" Nancy asked confusedly.

"Lie on your stomach, my dear," Fagin elaborated. "That way, when Bill comes in, you won't have to hide your emotions that much. We want you to look like you are asleep after all."

"What?!" Nancy asked again.

"It's _simple_, my dear!" Fagin cried with exasperation. "Bill will eventually come by here looking for you. I will explain to him that you had a bit too much to drink because you were so worried about him and that I thought it was best for you to remain here for the night. Of course, you want to look like you actually _are_ drunk, don't you?"

Nancy's face fell. _I thought that he wanted ME, but noooo!_

"Nancy, my dear?" Fagin said. "Is something the matter?"

Nancy glared at him, turned over onto her stomach, and purposefully ignored Fagin.

Fagin glanced at her, shrugged his shoulders, and headed for the bedroom.

"I'll be in bed if you need me, Nancy, my dear," he announced without looking back. Nancy didn't respond and Fagin continued on his way into the bedroom.

Once Nancy could no longer hear him, she raised her head up a little and looked in the direction of what she knew was Fagin's bedroom.

"_I'll be in bed if you need me, Nancy, my dear."_

Nancy's thoughts began to wander and her mind quickly explored all the possible meanings of this sentence. In the end, she returned to the conclusion that what he meant by that statement was just "If you catch on fire, you are welcome to come in and let me know, Nancy, my dear."

She sighed and, using all her determination, focused on falling asleep.

**Thank you very much Elaine Dawkins and Broken Amethyst! REVIEW please!!!**


	3. I'm Not the One

_She sighed and, using all her determination, focused on falling asleep._

Chapter 3: I'm Not the One

"… asleep on the couch, Bill, my dear," Nancy heard Fagin say. She wanted to turn over and look at them, but thoughts of Fagin's plan impeded this idea and she remained still.

She heard Bill mutter an oath. Fagin followed it up with a comment about " not waking the boys at this early hour". Nancy heard Bill's heavy footsteps come in her direction. He stopped by the couch and poked her in the ribs. Nancy didn't move. Bill poked her again. Nancy sighed 'in her sleep' and snuggled deeper into the hard upholstery. Bill stepped back and, deciding that Nancy was still under the stupor caused by alcohol, sighed.

"Yer can send 'er over later – I don't want ter deal with 'er right now. I'll make sure 'at she don't do this again-"

"Bill, my dear!" Fagin interrupted causing Nancy to smile into her arms. "She's only drunk because she was so worried about you. You know that she hates it when you go on these excursions… always worried you might get caught, hurt, or killed…"

Bill let out a sigh. He paused and then, after looking hard at Fagin, exited the apartment.

Nancy lay still for a minute and then raised her head out of her arms, grinning at Fagin, who was also smiling.

"I hope that was successful, Nancy, my dear."

Nancy gave a stealth grin. She slowly stood up, straightened her dress, and then glanced over at Fagin, who was now engrossed in studying the kitchen table. After running her hands through her hair a few times to get out any tangles, she approached Fagin purposefully. Whey she was about a foot away from him, he glanced up at her. She gave him a coquettish smile and leaned towards him. Fagin pretended to ignore her just to see how far she would go to get his attention, but Nancy wasn't one to play games. She swiftly grabbed Fagin's arm and pulled him to face her. She pressed her lips against his in a fiery kiss.

Fagin and Nancy relished the kiss for a moment before Fagin pulled away slowly, backing into the kitchen table as he did so. He looked briefly into Nancy's eyes and then redirected his attention to a wall on his right.

"Ah, my dear, look at the time!"

Nancy glanced uninterestedly at a clock on the wall that read 5:28. She refocused on Fagin. Slowly she made her way towards him and stopped once she was close to him. Raising her head a little, she looked into his eyes. She lifted her hand and softly placed it against his cheek. Her fingers trailed down the side of his face and neck, eventually resting at his collarbone. Her lips gradually moved closer to his.

"Nancy, me dear," Fagin spoke suddenly causing Nancy jump back few inches. After a moment, she relaxed against him and sighed.

"I think," the old Jew said slowly, "I think that perhaps… it might be unwise to…" Fagin paused as he searched for the right words to convey his thoughts to her, "it might be unwise for us to yield so strongly to these feelings lest our faces should give way to such looks – in front of Bill or the boys – as would show our… fondness for each other." Fagin ended his speech on a note of grave satisfaction. Slowly he turned so that his back was facing Nancy.

Nancy stared irritably at his back. _He_ was the one who had started it after all! She took a few deep breaths and smiled to herself. Why was she getting upset? She knew how to get men to forget all about being practical!

Nancy wrapped her arms around his waist smiling serenely. He glanced back at her and she fluttered her eyelashes, hinting her thoughts with every look she bestowed on him.

Fagin faced the wall again and rolled his eyes, a smile playing across his face. What had he started?

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Nancy waved and smiled at Fagin. She couldn't help but keep glancing back at him as she made her way to where Bill was located. She looked back a third time and saw that, in the doorway where Fagin had been standing, there was now just a cold-looking door. Her smile dropped slowly into a look of reflection. She wandered in the direction of her home, lost in thought. Her mind played through the events of the night. It was hard to believe that all of this had happened in a time frame of about eight hours. Glancing around her, she noticed the glow that was growing in the east, barely penetrating the dense fog; the sun would be up soon. Nancy yawned slowly, her eyes squeezing shut as she did so. When they opened, she found that her home was in view. She picked up her pace.

Once she arrived at the door, she stood there for a moment and then knocked – she still didn't have her key.

"Bill! It's me! Nancy!" she called through the door.

After a moment, she heard shuffling sounds, then heavy footfalls. The door swung open before her and Bill was stood in front of her, a lone silhouette as the firelight glowed around his large form.

"Hello, Bill!" she said smiling brightly. She squeezed past him. The door echoed closed behind her and Bill followed her sluggishly. He lowered himself back into a chair that was before the fire. He withdrew a long clay pipe from a large pocket in his coat. After inserting some tobacco, he lit the pipe and inhaled thoughtfully. He stared steadily at Nancy, who stood before him. Briskly, he removed the pipe from his mouth and spoke.

"What are yer starin' at?!! Get me some ale!" Bill growled his order moodily and gazed at the fire.

Nancy did not hesitate; she walked to a small cabinet and removed a bottle containing some amber liquid.

"How did work go, Bill?" Nancy asked sweetly.

"How'd it go?!!" Bill stormed. "You'd a known that if you'd a been waitin' here for me an' Toby like yer supposed ter!" Bill replaced his pipe in his mouth.

Nancy's lips tightened into a thin line. Guilt slowly etched across her face.

"Bill… I'm sorry…"

"Sorry?!!! Me an' Toby were out working and you were over at the devil's gettin' drunk!"

Nancy's face contorted into a look of anger at this horrible description of Fagin. She waited a few seconds before responding, hoping that her anger might subside. She opened her mouth to speak, but, after thinking it over, closed her mouth defiantly. It didn't matter what she said on the subject; Bill would still be angry with her and she didn't need to provoke him.

"Hungry?" she asked as she handed him a glass of ale.

Bill swore loudly, indicating that he was indeed hungry. Nancy, getting the message, quickly set to preparing his breakfast.

About fifteen minutes later, Nancy approached Bill, carrying a tray of food.

"Here you are, Bill," she said warmly.

Bill, after glancing at the food and being unable to find anything wrong with it, grunted his thanks. He quickly lifted the roll to his lips and devoured it. Bullseye, who had been sleeping at the foot of his master for the past half-hour, rose and blinked slowly at his master, denoting that he, too, was hungry. Bill glanced at the dog. He tore off a piece of meat and threw it roughly in front of the dog. Having satisfied the dog for the time being, Bill commenced his dining.

Nancy stood before the fire, warming herself as she ate at a small, buttered roll. Bill looked slowly up at her. Nancy, not noticing, continued to stare into the fire. Bill looked down at his plate and, after picking up some meat and chewing it thoughtfully, looked back over at Nancy. Where she stood, the flames reflected in her eyes and made her skin glow golden.

Bill's plate was now empty. Applying himself to the ale one last time, he drained the glass, then stood up purposefully.

Nancy clasped her hands tightly before her, her body tense with something that preoccupied her. Bill, ignoring these obvious signs of distraction, walked up behind her and gripped one of her arms tightly. He swiftly pulled her to face him. Nancy was taken by surprise and stared uncomprehendingly up at Bill. After a moment, she relaxed and looked calmly into his eyes. Bill pushed her roughly ahead of him and into a small room off the main one.

Nancy's body tensed; she knew exactly what Bill was up to – he had done it many times before. She felt Bill shove her onto the bed. Her heart rate increased, but not for the same reason it usual would have. She felt the bed bend under Bill's wait as he settled next to her. Bill ran his fingers down her causing her body to shake and flinch. She shrank back from him. While Bill wasn't used to Nancy playing hard to get, but he didn't really mind. Nancy felt his tight grip on her. Fight as she might, she wasn't going anywhere. He pressed his lips against hers, allowing his hands to wander freely to wherever they fancied…

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Nancy sat dejectedly on the edge of the bed. She heard Bill moving about in the kitchen and hugged herself tightly. She thought of Bill's hands touching her and she trembled violently. Nancy was surprised by her response. She had never responded that way before when Bill had touched her. She bit her lip in thought. Slowly, she stood up and retrieved her dress from the floor where it had unceremoniously been thrown. Shakily, she pulled the dress on. Her fingers ran slowly over each button, closing the dress. She walked over to a full-length mirror and stared at her reflection. She was perplexed as her eyes fell on the pale face that stared back at her. She swallowed hard and set to fixing her hair. After she completed this task, she prepared herself mentally for going into the kitchen where Bill was. Her resolve hardened and she held her head up high. She stood up stiffly and turned to face the door. Abruptly an image of Fagin flew into her mind. She longed to here his soothing voice and to be in his warm embrace! A loud curse exhibited from the kitchen causing Nancy's mind to return to Bill. She took a shaky step forward and then stopped.

"I'll see Fagin tonight!" she promised herself.

Determinedly, she walked forward and entered the kitchen where Bill stood.

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Nancy sighed as she placed the last of their five spoons into the kitchen drawer. She turned slowly and stared steadily at Bill who was sitting in front of the fire, smoking contentedly. She glanced at a clock on the wall that read 7 o'clock. Nancy dropped the kitchen towel down on the counter and walked swiftly down the hall. Bill glanced up at her retreating figure before returning his eyes to the fire. A few minutes later, Nancy reappeared wearing a shawl and a bonnet. Without looking at Bill, she addressed him.

"I'm going out." Her hand touched the doorknob just as she felt Bill's tight grip on her arm.

"Where?" he growled in her ear.

"Out," Nancy said shortly.

"Yer don't talk ter me 'at way! Where are yer goin'?"

Nancy stared pensively at his furrowed brow and his eyes that seemed to meet in the middle of his head. She noted the large grouping of wrinkles that had formed on his forehead. Carefully, she answered him.

"I'm going to Fagin's."

"What are yer goin' over ta' 'at devil's for?!!!"

Nancy squinted slightly and shrunk back from Bill as his voice rang loudly in her ears.

"I just wanted to visit-"

"Visit! No yer not! I might need yer! What's the use of a girl if she ain't 'round when yer need 'er?!!!"

Nancy shrunk back even more as his voice boomed at her. Bill, who was still gripping her arm tightly, jerked her back towards him and glared directly in her eyes. He spoke in a deathly whisper, shaking her as he pronounced each word.

"Yer stayin here with me an' yer not visitin' Fagin." He dragged her over to the kitchen table and pushed her into a chair before settling down in the seat next to her. He released his grip on her arm and resumed his thought-filled smoking. Nancy watched him for a moment, letting her eyes fall occasionally to her lap. Swiftly she stood up and ran, reaching for the door handle. Bill emitted a yell as she stood up. He was quickly at her heels. She pulled the door open and ran hurriedly into the smog. Bill reached out to grab her, but she was too quick for him. He stopped in the doorway and glared after her. His hand automatically explored his pocket. Pulling out his pistol, he aimed it at the small glimpses of Nancy that his eyes caught. He heard the gun click as his finger pulled back on the trigger. He stood there for a moment, gun aimed, waiting for his finger to loose the bullet. Bill glared at the street and his arm and hand began to shake. He told himself to shoot her; she was no good after all. Sweat beaded up on his forehead and his heart beat fast. The realization finally sunk in that even if he could get himself to shoot, she was out of the bullet's reach. Slowly, he lowered the gun and, after fixing the safety, returned it to his pocket. He looked at the street one last time before turning and going back inside the apartment.

**Ugh! I hated writing that horrible part towards the middle about Nancy and Bill! ((shudders)) Thanks Elaine Dawkins, Broken Amethyst, and Red-Cherry-Flowers! Please review!**


	4. Victim of Love

**Disclaimer: I do not own any of the lines I quoted from the musical. Everything except my plot belongs to Charles Dickens and/or "Mr. Musical", Lionel Bart.

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_Bill glared at the street and his arm and hand began to shake. Slowly, he lowered the gun and, after fixing the safety, returned it to his pocket. He looked at the street one last time before turning and going back inside the apartment._

Chapter 4: Victim of Love

Nancy gasped for air, her eyes looking wearily at the ground as she ran. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw all the familiar signs that she was getting closer to Fagin's. Slowly, she raised her eyes to look ahead of her. She stopped in front of the door to Fagin's and breathed heavily. Reaching up, she knocked softly on the wooden door. Leaning against the side of the building, she slid to the ground smiling. She had gotten away from Bill!

"Password?" she heard the Artful Dodger call through the door.

"Plumy an- oh, golly, I'm practically the only girl to come here and knock softly at this door! You know who I am!"

The door swung open and the Dodger stepped back allowing her the room to enter. He allowed a small smile to grace his lips as she looked at him. He turned, closed the door, and locked it. Without so much as a word, he walked ahead of her and up the stairs, carrying a lit candle.

When they arrived upstairs, they entered the kitchen. Nancy's eyes fell on a couple of boys including Charley who were playing cards at the kitchen table. She looked around the room, taking in the homey scene of Fagin's humble abode. A smile lit her face. She watched the Dodger walk around the kitchen table, taking a look at the cards the boys had grasped in their hands. She retreated into a small, dark corner of the room, content to look on, unnoticed, at all the simple, cozy goings-on.

Fagin entered from a door that was off of the main living space. He smiled around at his whole company. One of the boys addressed him. Nancy watched as a small boy with blond hair approached Fagin and the other boy. She didn't recognize this boy. She smiled sweetly at him even though he was not looking her way. She wanted to comfort him – show him that everything was all right and that even though he was a newcomer, he would be just another one of the group soon.

"Let's show Oliver how to do it, my dears!" Fagin addressed the group. Many loud cheers were exhibited in response and the boys ran over to join Fagin.

"Just a game Oliver, that's all! Just a game!" He grinned down at the blond-haired boy.

The Artful Dodger led Oliver to a good place where he could watch and the game commenced.

The old Jew strutted about the room pretending that he was a rich gentleman making his ordinary rounds through town. The boys followed close at his heels, sometimes deep in conversation with each other, other times, just standing nonchalantly nearby pretending to be observing an invisible crowd.

Oliver laughed at the old Jew's merriment. Nancy couldn't help but smile as she watched Fagin strut about like one of the have-it-all rich people.

The game was suddenly broken by a cry from Fagin of "Pocket!" signifying that he had felt one of his young students steal something out of his pocket.

Quickly all oddments and possessions were returned to the old Jew and the game started all over again.

The boys seemed to play with new concentration and focus – as though their loss of the last game was just a challenge.

This went on for some time. Slowly the comfy atmosphere and the entertainment lulled Oliver into a good-natured and tired feeling. Nancy watched as the boy's head dropped onto his chest and his shoulders slumped.

Nancy stood up and walked over to him. Gently she picked him up and cradled him in her arms. The boys immediately became distracted by this display of affection toward their fellow comrade. After a moment, Fagin noticed that he seemed to have been forgotten. Stopping suddenly in the middle of one of his extremely over-done interpretations of a wealthy gentleman, he turned and noticed Nancy for the first time.

"Nancy, my dear! Where did you come from?!" He approached Nancy, who was still cradling Oliver in her arms.

"The Dodger let me in about half-an-hour ago." She nodded in the Dodger's direction before continuing on in a whispered voice, "This boy needs to get into a proper bed."

"Of course, Nancy, my dear." He motioned for one of the boys to relieve Nancy of her burden. An older boy by the name of Dickson stepped forward. Nancy reluctantly handed the boy to him. The older boy retreated slowly through one of the doors, followed by a few others. Nancy stared after them. After a moment, she gave a weak smile.

Fagin rubbed his hands together excitedly and turned to face the Artful Dodger.

"Dodger! Get Nancy a drink! That's a dear!"

Fagin stared into her eyes grasping his hands tightly in front of him. Nancy returned his look and stood up slowly. She walked calmly over to the kitchen table and deposited herself in one of the chairs. Fagin followed suit.

Dodger placed a cup of gin in front of Nancy. Fagin smiled proudly at the Dodger.

"Thank you, Dodger, my dear! You're a fine boy!"

The Artful Dodger's face relaxed into a smile. He turned and joined the boys that were grouped in another section of the large living area. Fagin watched him as he joined in the other boys' revelry. He then returned his attention to Nancy.

"So, my dear, how are things?"

"Oh, well, umm…," Nancy searched for the right word, "fine." Quickly, she redirected the conversation to where she wanted it to go. "Where did you get that new boy – Oliver?"

"Just another one of the Dodger's finds, my dear." Fagin smiled proudly in the direction of the Artful Dodger. "With the Dodger as an example and I as his teacher, the boy can't go wrong, Nancy, my dear! Not a chance of it!"

Nancy smiled into her cup of gin. Sometimes Fagin could be just plain corny!

"Why didn't you announce yourself when you came in?" Fagin asked curiously.

"I felt like… observing," Nancy said thoughtfully. A smile crossed her face as visions of Fagin and the children played through her head.

"Nancy, my dear?" Fagin asked, peering at her. "Are you all right?"

"Of course I am! For that matter, I've never been better! You have such a cozy life here…" Her eyes roved around the room, resting on such things as the warm fire, the group of boys playing cards, and Fagin himself.

Fagin patted her hand gently, seeming to understand what she meant. He knew she'd had a falling-out with Bill. There was no doubt about that!

"Nancy, my dear, my life isn't as perfect as you see it." He shook his head, a queer smile on his face. "There are challenges, hard times…" his voice trailed off.

"I know that," Nancy said softly so that he had to lean towards her to hear properly. "But it seems to me that all those difficult times, well, they sort-of melt away on nights like these – when you're with the people you love…" -_in the place that only in your wildest dreams do you dare to call home!_

Fagin stared silently at her. He didn't know what to say. When she said 'with the people you love', was she referring to _him_?

Nancy reached forward and grabbed one of Fagin's hands that were resting on the table. She held it in her own, committing to memory the feel of his warm fingers and palm partially covered by the old, worn gloves.

Fagin and Nancy sat in silence. Both feared that if they did or said anything else, all these beautiful moments would be lost forever; irretrievable.

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An hour later, most of the boys had made their way upstairs. Those that hadn't had either fallen asleep or were attempting one last time to win back all the money that they had lost to the Artful Dodger.

"I should go," Nancy said softly.

Fagin stared dazedly at her hands that were in his. He nodded and raised his eyes to look into hers. Slowly, he let go of her hands and stood up. He picked up a candle that was almost used up; it had been on the counter the whole evening.

Nancy rose from her chair. She put on her bonnet and wrapped her shawl tightly around her.

Fagin guided her silently down the stairs, holding the candle aloft.

Once they arrived at the door, Nancy turned to face him. Fagin set the candle down on top of one of the newel posts. They both stared at each other; neither wanted to part company.

Hurriedly, Nancy threw her arms around Fagin in a tight hug. Fagin stiffened for a moment, then let out a small sigh and wrapped his arms around her somewhat hesitantly. Gently, she pulled away and smiled sadly at Fagin. As she looked at him, Fagin dropped his gaze and tried to focus on some of his more flighty feelings. He stared thoughtfully at her body, pretending that it was all he cared about. It had started with his loneliness, then it became passion, and now it was the one thing he had least expected. He couldn't be completely sure, but he was showing all the signs. _How could you fall in love with her?_ he chided himself silently.

"Fagin?" Nancy whispered, staring somewhat concernedly at the old Jew.

"Yes, Nancy, my dear?!" he said sharply.

Nancy backed away a bit surprised by his response.

"I'm sorry, my dear," Fagin said softly. "I was thinking, that's all! Nothing more! Just thoughts!"

Nancy nodded slowly, gazing at him in an odd sort of way. Noting this, Fagin quickly relaxed into a smile, putting his hands in his coat pockets in a manner that was more reminiscent of the Artful Dodger than of himself. Realizing that he was obviously doing something a bit uncharacteristic, Fagin quickly pulled his hands out of his pockets and tried to act more like his usual self. He was suddenly finding his whole body to be very awkward; like it belonged to someone else. He mentally tried to regain his usual grace.

Nancy turned slowly, reaching for the doorknob as she did so. Fagin placed one of his hands softly on her arm, halting her in her action. Nancy turned to stare at him, all the while, trying to figure out what she did wrong.

Fagin gazed intently into her eyes, trying to tell her what he wanted without having to speak the words. _I love you Nancy!_ he thought with all his might. He hoped that somehow, his thoughts might be displayed to her through his stare.

Nancy licked her lips thoughtfully.

Slowly, Fagin took Nancy's hands in his. He smiled contently at her. After a moment, he leaned forward and placed a small kiss on her lips. The old Jew pulled away, let go of her hands, and reached around her for the doorknob. He opened it silently. Nancy gave him a small smile and stepped through the doorway. As she walked out into the cold, dark street, she chanced a look back at Fagin. This time he wasn't so quick to close the door, but instead, he continued to stare after her. As Nancy walked, she could feel his gaze on her back. It took all her courage, but she turned the corner and walked on without looking back.

Fagin closed the door as she disappeared out of view. He turned and leaned against the door. The candle went out as the last of the wax melted. He stood there for a while, staring at the ceiling which he could not see in the dark, but knew was there. He licked his dry lips. His thoughts slowly drifted back to the thoughts that he had previously entertained. How had he fallen in love? Gone were his school days when he would sit at a desk, scribbling the name "Judith Heber" and drawing a heart around it instead of studying the multiplication tables. Such flights of fancy should be behind him now! He had a full-blown business! He didn't need anything else!

He sighed. No matter how hard he tried to convince himself, he still came to the same conclusion – he loved Nancy.

"Fool!" he hissed aloud to himself. Swiftly, he pushed himself away from the door, straightened his greatcoat, and made his way towards the stairs. He stifled a yell as his toe came in contact with bottom step. He glared at the place that he suspected the burnt out candle was set. Slowly, he made his way up the stairs, feeling the railing and steps.

Once he arrived upstairs, he entered the main living area. The Artful Dodger was lazily placing his winnings and playing cards into his pockets. He smirked at Fagin as he waved the money in clear view of the old Jew. Fagin smiled.

"Lovely, my dear! Lovely! No one with as much talent as you! No one!" He tapped the Artful Dodger first on the shoulder, then the top of his hat. The Dodger reached up and secured his hat firmly on his head before mumbling "G'night, Fagin" and making his way upstairs.

Fagin smiled after him. No. He was sure of it now. Neither the money, nor the boys were enough to satisfy him anymore. Those longings that he had stifled long ago, all the hopes he had once had were back and more vivid than ever. He wanted love - not the kind of love you get from a child or a friend, but the kind of love you get from a woman. Now all those unfulfilled dreams were becoming a reality. The love he had once sought was within his grasp. There was only one person standing in the way.

"Bill." Fagin spat the name in a disgusted manner. "You always are in the way of what I want, aren't you?"

**Anyway, thanks readers! Now, REVIEW PLEASE!!!**


	5. This Could Be Love

"_Bill." Fagin spat the name in a disgusted manner. "You always are in the way of what I want, aren't you?"_

Chapter 5: This Could Be Love

Nancy quickly reached her home. She stared up at the door. Trying the knob, she found it to be, like always, locked. It was a "safety" precaution that she and Bill had agreed upon years ago. They really couldn't risk any traps getting in even though they did their best to keep the place from looking suspicious.

After a moment of thought, she reached up and knocked softly at the door. As she did this, she felt a sudden pang of guilt wave through her. How could she do all this to Bill? Did she really have a right to be seeing Fagin? _No_, a guilty voice inside her answered. For a moment, Nancy imagined a younger, prettier girl spending time with Bill. _No, he wouldn't do that to you! Not ever!_ She shook her head slowly as she stared at her feet. She would have to apologize – there was no doubt about it! She straightened up quickly and raised her chin in a haughty and proud manner. She focused on preparing to look straight into Bill's steel blue eyes and tell all – well, tell _some_. She hoped Bill wouldn't hurt her too much – just enough for the bad that she had done to him.

_That would garner a whipping!_ she thought, ashamedly.

The door pulled open before her and Bullseye tottered over to her. He yelped in greeting.

"Be quiet, yer!" Bill growled at the dog.

Nancy entered the room softly, bestowing a smile on Bill.

"Hello, Bill," she said gently.

"Well burn my body if the girl don't think 'at she can just come right in 'ere as though she didn't do an'thing!" Bill's comments were directed at the dog.

Nancy bowed her head guiltily.

Bill continued on in a few other loud admonitions, throwing in some curses here and there.

Nancy listened to them all, head bowed.

Bill stopped after a moment and stared at her. Nancy looked up at him after a moment.

"Aren't you going to continue, Bill? I disobeyed you. I deserve a good reprimanding and probably a good beating!"

Bill stared at her thoughtfully. Nancy could see suspicion in his gaze.

"Bill, I'm sorry about – well, going out when you told me not to. I shouldn't have disobeyed."

Bill stared at her sternly. Nancy bit her lip nervously; she hated not telling him the complete truth, but if she told him about Fagin, it would be the death of the poor old man.

Bill's mind was working hard and fast. He couldn't understand why Nancy was all of a sudden being so submissive. She always had been opinionated and strong-willed – something which he knew how to handle. He searched desperately in his brain for an answer to the question "what do I to with her now?" Eventually he decided that the best thing to do would be to treat her like he always did. She did something wrong and she needed to be punished. He lifted his hand up and stroked her cheek thoughtfully. Nancy relaxed into a small smile. Swiftly, Bill brought his hand away from her face before swiping it across her cheek in a loud slap.

Nancy breathed in sharply and, holding her hand to her reddening face, stepped back from Bill. _You deserve this_, she reminded herself. Slowly, she made her way back to Bill and waited for the next blow to fall.

Bill stared at her thoughtfully. After a moment, he hit her across the arm causing her to crouch down, hugging her throbbing ligament. He turned and walked over to the fire, where he settled down in his chair and resumed smoking his pipe.

After a moment, Nancy turned and walked into the kitchen, rubbing her aching arm. Quickly, she set to getting Bill some brandy, which he always took before bed. Looking up at the clock, she noticed how late it had actually gotten. When she went over to Fagin's, time seemed to stand still. _Fagin_, the name echoed in her mind.

_Well, what am I supposed to do? I love Bill. But what about Fagin?_

As she poured the brandy into a glass, she focused on her feelings. Fagin was so kind, but she was MEANT to be with Bill. She was never MEANT to be with Fagin!

"And yet it has come down to just that," she muttered almost inaudibly to herself.

Picking up the glass of brandy, she turned to face the living area. She began to walk back over to Bill when she saw something blue out of the corner of her eye. Glancing over at the back of Bill's chair, she decided that he could wait a minute. She looked curiously over at the blue object. There, on the kitchen table, was her handbag – the one she had lost yesterday! Picking it up, she noticed it was slightly dirty. She reached inside and found a few things she had been missing – her lipstick, a five-pound note, and her house-key! She smiled and shook her head. Bill must have found it somewhere and brought it back here for her. Setting the bag down, she walked over to Bill.

"Bill, here's your brandy," she announced softly in his ear. He grunted a small "thank you" and accepted the glass of brandy gratefully. He took one small, thoughtful sip, then gulped the rest down.

Nancy smiled as she watched him. Life with Bill really was great, but she couldn't seem to convince herself completely. Every time she thought about or saw Fagin, all ordinary reasoning would fall to pieces and she would find herself swept off her feet.

_I'm just in a rut, that's all! Long-term relationships are bound to get boring some time! I just enjoy being with Fagin because it's new and exciting!_ She almost snorted with laughter at that last thought. A relationship with Fagin was "new" and "exciting"! He was three times her age! How could someone so old be described with words like "new" and "exciting"! Nancy shoved her hand against her mouth, fighting back the torrent of giggles that wanted to explode from her.

Bill glanced up at her. Her cheeks were flushed, her eyes where squinted almost completely shut, and she was shaking with silent laughter.

"What got inter yer?!"

Nancy just shook her head, still shaking with laughter.

Bill jerked her hand away from her mouth. Nancy at once burst into loud, unrestrained laughter. A few mirthful tears rolled down her cheeks.

"What got inter yer?!" he repeated, standing up to look more closely at her.

"I just thought of Fagin!" Nancy cried hysterically. The name caused her to burst into another, louder string of laughter.

"What the-" Bill began to say, but was interrupted by Nancy hurling herself at him. She buried her face in his large chest as she continued her fit of laughter.

Bill stared down at her. He didn't get it. Yes, he didn't like Fagin and yes, Fagin was a queer individual, but Fagin _funny_?

Bill settled on a half-smile. He patted her on the shoulder and let her get the rest of her mirth out before settling back down in his chair. Once Nancy was finished laughing, she settled down quietly in a chair across from Bill, a smile still across her face.

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The moment Fagin awoke the next morning, all the events of the evening began to play over in his head. He hated the way his mind would insist on revisiting every single thing that had happened the previous day. His thoughts quickly settled on the most disturbing thing that had come from last night – his realization that he loved Nancy. Fagin groaned softly as he held a piece of toast over the fire before him. If he was in love, why was he so miserable?

_Because the girl you like is taken, because you can't seem to win her over completely, and because you doubt that she has even remotely the same feelings towards you that you have towards her!_ He shook his head helplessly at this thought.

His thoughts drifted to the one thing – well, _person_ - that seemed to complicate everything. His face twisted up into a hideous look of contempt as he thought of Bill.

"Not only are you a pain to work with, Bill, but you also have the one woman I ever truly loved!" Fagin shoved his hand over his mouth as he uttered these last few words. The vocalization of his thoughts that had begun softly had ended rather louder than he wished. He silently chided himself for getting so riled. Looking down at the piece of bread on the end of his toasting fork, he was surprised to find that it had become quite burned and inedible. Swiftly he turned with the intention of getting another piece of bread.

Fagin jumped frantically when her realized that Oliver was standing right behind him, staring at him, eyes wide with curiosity and fear. Fagin moved towards him, holding the toasting fork aloft.

"How long have you been standing there, my dear?" His eyes were wide and seemed to glow as he stared at Oliver.

"Not – not long, sir," Oliver stuttered. "Not long at all."

Fagin stared penetratingly at Oliver for a moment, then smiled, patted him on the shoulder, and returned to his toast.

"Mr. Fagin, sir, who is the woman you were talking about?" Oliver asked innocently.

Fagin glared at the fire and he felt his whole body become tense and then numb.

"Oliver… my dear… she's just someone I know. It's really… nothing." Quickly he handed Oliver a nicely browned piece of toast, hoping he would forget the whole thing.

Oliver glanced at the back of the old Jew, who had begun toasting another piece of bread over the fire. After a moment, he timidly took a bite of the bread. He had obviously struck a nerve. He really shouldn't have asked that question; it wasn't his business anyway!

Slowly, the young pickpockets began to gather, all hungry and wanting food. Fagin watched as Oliver observed all the other boys quietly; only saying something when one of the boys asked him a question or seemed to desire his opinion.

Eventually all the boys but Oliver had left. Fagin sighed as he put the toasting fork away. He sat down in a chair looking drained. Oliver stared at him attentively. Slowly the Jew lifted his gaze until it met Oliver's.

"Well, Oliver, my dear, it's time we get to work!" He disappeared momentarily. When he returned, he was carrying a large stack of handkerchiefs. Placing them beside Oliver, he began to instruct him in the proper way of removing the marks.

About an hour later, there was a loud pounding at the door. Fagin moaned. _Bill_, he thought contemptuously. He lifted himself out of a chair and, after grabbing a candle, made his way down the stairs.

"Password!" he cried softly through the door.

"Plumy an' slam," came Bill's low growl.

Fagin swung the door wide open and smiled.

"Ah, Bill, my dear! Come in!" Fagin stepped back from the doorway. Bill sauntered in, followed by Bullseye, and – to Fagin's immense pleasure – Nancy! She glanced over at Fagin, nodded at him, and gave him a small smile before following Bill up the stairs.

Once they all arrived upstairs, Bill and Nancy sat down around the kitchen table.

"I'll 'ave some gin, Fagin," Bill said shortly.

"Of course, Bill, my dear." Fagin removed a bottle and glass from a small cupboard.

Nancy stared at the gin bottle, memories of the former night with Fagin flooding back to her. Quickly she averted her gaze. Fagin glanced thoughtfully at her, knowing what she was thinking. He poured the gin into the glass and put it in front of Bill. Bill took a large gulp and set it back down on the table.

"Now! Ter business!"

"Ah, yes, Bill! Why else would you come? Perhaps, just to visit?" Fagin said this last sentence very ironically.

Bill gave him a queer look; something between a glare and an eye-role. After a moment, he launched into a long explanation of his and Toby's plans for the next housebreak. Fagin listened intently, the promise of personal gains in store.

"…Toby an' I are goin' out 'ere tomorrow night to check it out a bit better. If all goes well, we'll be in it by Wednesday o' next week," he concluded.

Fagin nodded, a grin creasing his face as he thought of the silver tea service which Bill had described to him, previously.

Bill took a long sip of gin and then set his glass down.

"We need a bit o' money to tie us over 'til then."

Fagin shook his head slowly.

"Terribly sorry, my dears, but I need ever single pound that I have! The boys-"

"Enough o' your sob stories! I already 'eard 'em all! Nance and I need it!"

Fagin stared up at Bill, who had stood up in his moment of anger.

"Why?" Fagin asked simply.

"Why?!!" Bill bellowed. A few curses followed and he glared at Fagin. "I think you'd know perfectly well by now why we need it-"

The old Jew raised his hand hoping to halt Bill in his speech.

"Not in front of the boy, my dear," he hissed and pointed towards Oliver who was cowering as he quietly picked at a monogram.

Bill looked at him curiously, noticing him for the first time.

"When did yer get him?"

"Just yesterday, Bill."

Nancy stared pityingly at Oliver. She tried to catch his eye.

"How rude of me!" Fagin cried. "Oliver, my dear, come here." He smiled encouragingly at the young boy.

Oliver set the handkerchief aside and approached Fagin nervously.

"Oliver, my dear, these are some colleagues of mine – Bill and Nancy."

"Nice to meet you both," Oliver said quietly.

Nancy felt her heart ache as she watched him. In the midst of all the fear he was feeling, he was still trying to be polite and kind. She smiled at him and he returned the smile innocently.

"Alright, my dear, why don't you go back to work," he spoke to Oliver.

Oliver turned and began to walk back towards the handkerchief. He glanced back once. Nancy smiled at him and watched him as he settled back down with his stack of handkerchiefs.

Fagin pointed up towards the ceiling, looking at Bill as he did so. Bill nodded and quickly followed Fagin off through a doorway.

Nancy watched them go and didn't move until the door was completely closed and their footsteps were no longer audible. Swiftly she turned to look at Oliver and smiled at him friendly.

She walked over to him and sat down next to him.

Oliver looked up at her, thoughtfully.

"What?" Nancy asked curiously.

"Oh, nothing! I'm sorry! I shouldn't have been staring at you!" Oliver looked guiltily at his lap.

"No! That's all right! I was just wondering what you found so fascinating about me."

"First of all, you're so much more… well, I don't know…" his voice faded. "You just made me think of something. Do you know Mr. Fagin well?"

"Yes, actually I do."

Oliver nodded and went back to focusing on his handkerchief.

"Why? Did Fagin mention me?" she asked curiously.

"He might have…" Oliver said, telling the truth completely. "I'm really not sure."

"Did he mention my name?"

"No."

"Did he mention Bill?"

"Yes, I believe so."

"Anything else?"

"Well, he mentioned a woman," Oliver said slowly.

"And you think he was talking about me?"

"Maybe."

"Could you perhaps tell me, what it was he said to you – the whole sentence, I mean?"

"Well, he didn't actually say it to me. In fact, I don't think he meant for me to hear…" Oliver looked guiltily at his lap. "I suppose I walked in at a bad time."

Nancy pursed her lips. She wanted to know what Fagin had said about her, but she didn't want Oliver to have to repeat something he really wasn't supposed to hear.

"I'm sure it wasn't your fault! Fagin can't expect to have to many secrets in a house so full of people anyway!" Nancy smiled at Oliver, squeezing his shoulder comfortingly.

Oliver smiled at her before returning to his work.

"So… what was it Fagin said?" Nancy asked carefully. Her curiosity had won her over.

"Something about the only lady he ever loved. Well, it was something like that. And Bill was mentioned somewhere in that."

Nancy felt her heart seem to stop. Fagin _loved_ her? She hardly dared to believe it. He was just bored like her. Lonely. Right?

Oliver looked up at Nancy.

"Are you all right?" he asked. His blue eyes were wide and a look of concern crossed his face.

"Yes, I'm fine," she said softly, staring at the ceiling where Fagin and Bill were.

**H****ey everybody, thanks for sticking with me on this one. I've been having a bit of trouble getting myself to write – been going through a bit of a tough time in my head (just thinking too much, I guess). Now, reviews would be helpful. Oh, and I would like to everyone to know that if you ever don't like where my story is going or are just not enjoying reading it at all (after having let me know in a review and giving me a chance to perhaps change things a bit), I would not be insulted if you decided to stop reading the story! You are welcome to move on if you find one of my stories tiresome, just let me know with a little PM! All right, now that you all know where I stand, you can REVIEW!!!**


	6. Magic

**(A/N: Sorry it took so long to get this up. There's an explanation at the end of the chapter.)**

_Nancy felt her heart seem to stop. Fagin loved her? She hardly dared to believe it. He was just bored like her. Lonely. Right?_

_Oliver looked up at Nancy._

"_Are you all right?" he asked. His blue eyes were wide and a look of concern crossed his face._

"_Yes, I'm fine," she said softly, staring at the ceiling where Fagin and Bill were._

Chapter 6: Magic

Nancy jumped as she heard Bill and Fagin enter the room. She glanced over her shoulder at them, tried extremely hard to look nonchalant, and stood up. When she faced them, she smiled widely. After realizing that this look might appear superficial, she worked it into a look of indifference. Luckily, neither Bill nor Fagin had looked in her direction yet.

"C'mon, Nance," Bill grunted at her.

Nancy turned to look at Oliver.

"Goodbye, Oliver. I hope I will get to see you again soon."

"I hope to see you again soon, too." His eyes lit up suddenly and Nancy could see that he had thought of something. "Maybe Mr. Fagin," he glanced over at the old Jew before continuing, "will let me visit you some time - or you could just come over here!"

Nancy smiled at him and brushed some hair away from his face.

"I would enjoy either one." She smiled at him. Slowly she turned and followed Bill and Bullseye, who were already being guided down the stairs by Fagin. Once they reached the front door, Bill and Bullseye exited quickly. Nancy lingered a moment, staring at Fagin.

"What is it, Nancy, my dear?" he asked innocently, even though he had an inkling of what she was doing.

"Nothing," Nancy answered softly. She gave Fagin one short, meaningful look and then turned and followed Bill's retreating form.

Fagin closed the door softly. He turned is head thoughtfully to one side. There was something in Nancy's look that unsettled him. She almost had a knowing air about her – something females regularly used to unsettle their male counterparts. He thought about Nancy for a few short minutes, then, giving up on the whole issue, made his way back up the stairs and entered the main living space.

Oliver was still sitting quietly, working on the ever-decreasing stack of handkerchiefs beside him. Fagin approached him and watched his progress slowly. Gradually, the embroidered "M" disappeared from the cloth.

"How am I doing, sir?" Oliver was now staring up at the Jew with those honest, blue eyes.

"Just lovely, my dear! You have real talent!" Fagin encouraged him, patting him on the shoulder.

Oliver bent his head back down as he began work on the letter "R" that had previously been next to the "M". He silently wondered how someone could have a "talent" like removing stitches that were, in the old Jew's mind, badly sewn in. After a moment, he gave up on contemplating this and let his mind wander to the many queer aspects of the boys, particularly the Artful Dodger, who was another one of the old Jew's fascinations.

"Sir?" Oliver looked up at Fagin again. "Will I get to go out with the Dodger anytime soon?"

"Ah, you would like to see him on-the-job, would you, Oliver?" Fagin gripped Oliver's shoulder.

"Yes, sir. Very much so, sir," Oliver responded enthusiastically.

"Soon, Oliver, my dear. Very soon. You just have to learn a few more things before going out on-the-job. Soon, though."

Oliver smiled and bent back over his work again, now removing stitches at a furious pace, suddenly filled with hope at the thought of going out.

Fagin watched him for a moment. An unfamiliar, guilty feeling was filling him. Slowly, he turned away, not wishing to look at the boy. He stared unfocusedly at the floor, then closed his eyes, waiting for the guilty feeling to pass. There was just something about that boy that caused even his most intricate and profitable plans to seem less than pleasant. He opened his eyes as he realized that the feeling of guilt would not disappear – not yet at least. After glancing around himself bewilderedly, he remembered what he should be employing himself in. With one final look at Oliver, he made his way to the kitchen.

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Fagin sighed tranquilly as he closed the door behind him. The cool evening air rushed against his face and whipped his coat around him. Crossing his arms tightly across his chest, he made his way through the streets. He didn't really know where he was going – probably The Three Cripples. He was just tired of being inside the apartment. It was not easy being cooped up in a musty apartment with a young boy who wanted to go out just as much as he did. Fagin smiled, knowing that the boys would keep a careful watch on Oliver and (hopefully) teach him something in the process.

He felt his hat pull away from him in the wind and he quickly reached up to catch it. After placing it firmly back on his head, he looked up and saw The Three Cripples ahead of him. The laughter and singing could already be heard and he smiled at the warmth it seemed to emit. He began to pick up his pace, already thinking of that nice glass of scotch he would get, but someone grabbed his coat and pulled him into a dark alleyway. Experience told him to keep his mouth shut and not draw attention to him or whoever had grabbed him. Fagin felt the tight grip on his coat loosen and then disappear altogether. He breathed out slowly and then looked up at his assailant. Shadow hid the person from view. Fagin opened his mouth slowly as many questions formed in his mind.

"I knew you'd be by here," he heard a friendly, familiar voice hiss in his ear.

"Nancy? My dear! You scared me to death!"

"Yes, well, I'm sorry about that… I just wanted to speak with you."

"Odd way to get a word with me, my dear. You know, I am not opposed to you visiting me at the apartment…"

"I know, but Bill and I were at The Three Cripples. I figured you'd be coming there tonight, but I wanted a word alone with you. So, I excused myself – said I needed a bit of air – and came out here to wait for you." Nancy paused then continued, "Come to think of it, I need to get back in there soon or Bill will get suspicious!"

"Alright my dear, I'm sorry; I didn't mean to bother you with unnecessary questions. Please say what you have to say."

"Well, there really isn't enough time for all that and this really isn't the place either… Bill's going out on the job tomorrow night remember?"

"Yes, you were just over earlier today," Fagin commented dryly as though she was implying that he had a bad memory.

"Anyway," Nancy said pointedly, "I want to meet you while he's out. At midnight. Outside the Branson Bakery."

Fagin agreed to it, all the while wondering why Bill couldn't have any ordinary job at ordinary hours.

"I have to go," Nancy said sharply as she headed for the street. She halted and turned to face Fagin. "Don't come into the bar too quick or it will look suspicious. I don't need to walk in there with you trailing after me."

Fagin nodded and glanced around at the dark alleyway. He listened to her footsteps echo in the distance. After a moment, he pulled out his pocket-watch and, after stepping out of the alleyway, studied it. Slowly, he began to count down the minutes until he could enter the warm, cheery atmosphere of the bar.

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Nancy leaned against the wall of the bakery, trying to keep from glancing around anxiously for Fagin. She was beginning to wonder if he might have forgotten. She hugged her shawl tightly around herself and shivered in the prickly night air. After a moment, she gave in to pacing back and forth. She was cold, tired, and lonely. She halted and stared up at the starry sky. It was unusually clear out. There was a tap on her shoulder and she forced her hand over her mouth to keep from screaming. Turning around, she saw Fagin. Her eyes were wide with surprise.

"I'm sorry, my dear. Did I scare you?" His look was apologetic. Slowly Nancy relaxed into a smile.

"The way you come up behind people – you'd think that you just float everywhere you go, not making a sound!"

Fagin chuckled and Nancy shivered.

"I'm glad you came," she said softly.

Fagin just smiled and glanced up at the sky.

Nancy bit her bottom lip nervously and fidgeted where she stood.

"Do you mind if we walk and talk?" she asked.

The old Jew shook his head indifferently. They both began to walk, side by side.

"Stars are pretty tonight," Fagin said matter-of-factly.

"Yes, they are."

They walked on in silence for a minute.

"I love you," Nancy said out of nowhere. She stopped dead in her tracks and turned to stare at Fagin, trying to gauge his reaction.

At first, his look was unreadable – almost as though he hadn't heard what she said. Then, he turned to face her.

His heart was pounding, his mouth felt dry, and he felt like every bone in his body had been removed. He was sure he would melt into a puddle at her feet.

He opened his mouth to speak, trying to get words to come out.

"Nancy!" he said hoarsely.

She stared intently at him, desperately praying that she hadn't misinterpreted what Oliver had told her.

"I love you, too." Fagin stared at her in disbelief. His breathing was ragged and his body felt like it was made of stone. Slowly, he reached his a shaking hand up and brushed his fingers against Nancy's cheek.

The corners of her mouth turned up slowly in a small, gentle smile. Her eyes glistened with moisture as she looked directly into his eyes. Bill was the furthest from her mind that he had ever been.

Fagin moved a step closer to her, not breaking their gaze. Everything in his mind seemed to stop.

It felt as though some force was pulling them towards each other. Slowly, his arms encircled her and he leaned in even closer to her. Their lips met in a tender kiss - unlike any they had ever shared; it felt so pure and honest. Languidly, they broke the kiss. Nancy relaxed against him, resting her head against his chest, listening to his heartbeat. She closed her eyes and smiled contentedly.

Fagin stroked her hair with one hand and held her to him with the other.

They stood in silence for a long while. Nancy eventually pulled away. Fagin put his arm around her waist and glanced up at the sky. One wispy cloud moved aside revealing a bright, silvery-white moon. Nancy gaped at the sphere suspended in the night sky. She walked towards it, her eyes transfixed. Fagin walked slowly up behind her. After a moment, Nancy halted. She let her eyes drift down from the sky and realized that they had walked into a park. She glanced around at the trees, grass, and benches. There was a fountain in the center. She turned to look at Fagin. Something behind him caught her eye and a gleeful smile lit her face. Fagin's eyebrows raised inquiringly as he glanced behind him.

"A swing set," Nancy said breathlessly. "They were always my favorite thing to play on when I was a child."

Fagin nodded as he stared at the metal structure that suspended two wooden seats by ropes. He often saw children grouped around it, waiting for their turn to use it.

Nancy approached it haltingly. Fagin watched as she reached out and touched the metal posts. He watched her smile as childhood memories flowed through her head. Thoughtfully, she fingered the ropes, remembering the itch and burn they produced as you held on. She gripped the rope tightly in her hand. Fagin kept his distance, not wanting to break the odd spell that the structure seemed to cast over her. Dreamily, Nancy lowered herself onto one of the seats. Reaching her other arm up, she gripped the other rope tightly.

Fagin stepped forward and stood in front of her, watching amusedly.

Nancy looked up and seemed to come back to reality. She smiled bashfully and let out a gentle laugh.

"I don't know what I'm doing." She shook her head and looked away from the old Jew. He walked closer to her and placed his hand over one of hers. Nancy looked down at her feet, looking embarrassed, but she didn't get up.

Fagin moved softly over to the seat next to her. After a moment's thought, he sat down on it and smiled in spite of himself. Nancy watched him out of the corner of her eye. Slowly, they began to waver back and forth on the swings. Fagin looked up and met her eye. Smiling secretively at each other, they both gave in to the strange spell and pushed against the earth with their feet.

Nancy grinned as she felt the air rush underneath her. She no longer cared that the wind was cold and biting. She pumped her legs back and forth getting more height. She felt a tug in her heart and a feeling of endless possibilities flowed through her. She was sure that every dream she ever had could come true.

Fagin was chuckling softly as he, too, felt the tug in his heart and the hope that all his dreams could become a reality if he only let them.

Their eyes met and they both laughed. Fagin was surprised to find that he wasn't the least bit embarrassed to be swinging on a child's toy. Nancy wondered at the special feelings they were sharing; feelings neither of them had felt in a long time.

They talked back and forth about their dreams and aspirations - both believing thoroughly that they would all come true. Laughing as they shared deep secrets and emotions, yet meaning everything they said with deep seriousness.

Finally, both their swings slowed, lost height, and eventually stopped altogether.

Fagin was the first to stand up, groaning as he did so; he had forgotten how much pain something so fun could inflict on someone of his age.

Nancy giggled, but winced as she, too, stood up.

Fagin stared at Nancy. They both took one last long look at the swings. Fagin took her hand in his. Leisurely, they made their way back to Branson Bakery, where they had met that night. Exchanging one last sparkling look, they headed their separate ways wordlessly.

**Hello! Yeah, I know, "What happened?" "Why haven't you updated?" "Lazy bum!" Yeah, well, SORRY! I've been doing a lot of stuff recently! Mostly, I have been working on my newest website, **stay wild as jack wild .wetpaint .com**, (had to make the url weird so it would keep it - there aren't usually spaces in it) which is a site devoted to Jack Wild (played the Artful Dodger in ****Oliver!**** and was Ornshaw in ****Melody****). I'm sorry I focused so much on it and not on my story! About my story… I didn't weird anyone out, did I? Probably did. Well, I think that one of the most romantic things is a swing set! Forget barefoot walks on the beach; give me a swing set and one of my dream guys! Okay, I'll let you review now! I really must have scared some of you… Ah, well, I believe I am nearing the end of the story, so prepare yourself for an intense (last) chapter! I don't know if it will be zero, one, two, or more chapters before the end, we'll just have to see. Now, REVIEW!**


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